A Matter of Intelligence
by Skate-815
Summary: Set during the first half of season one, Doyle attempts to prove to Cordelia that he can be smart too. Just really a fluffy excuse for a DoyleCordy story that didn't take me long to write. That being said, virtual cookies to those that R&R!


**I haven't done an Angel fic in a while, and I thought why not? **

**Rating T to be safe**

**One shot.**

**Spoilers: First half of season 1**

**Pairing: Doyle/Cordy, naturally.**

**Summery: Doyle attempts to prove his intelligence to Cordy. **

**Not expecting many reviews, because there just doesn't seem to be that mean DCers around, but feedback is love.**

* * *

**A matter of Intelligence**

Doyle arrived at work feeling strangely refreshed. The previous night, he'd skipped the pub for once, and had settled for a night in alone with his thoughts, and his head was feeling all the better for it. And strangely, he was the first one there. He decided to make his own disgusting excuse for coffee, and sat down on the couch, sipping it slowly. Eventually, Cordelia and Angel arrived together, Cordy in particular looking ill.

"You okay?" Doyle asked immediately

"She's fine. Just a bit too much to drink last night." Angel said, closing the blinds Doyle had opened on his entrance, and flipping on the light switch. Cordy immediately grunted something unrecognisable to Doyle, but Angel got the message, and hurriedly turned it off again.

"I think we'd better let Cordy recover a bit" Doyle suggested, as she collapsed onto the seat beside him.

"Well I'll be in my office, trying to do some actual work." Angel said, disappearing into the next room, leaving them alone.

"You want something to drink?" Doyle asked, rising, but she shook her head,

"I've tried your excuse for coffee Doyle"

"What about…"

"I'm fine. Really. None of us bother when you're hung-over."

"That's because I'm like this five days a week. You don't usually drink that much"

"Yeah, well there was this guy…" she began, and Doyle suddenly felt a wave of jealousy sweep through him, "And he kept buying me drinks, and I didn't want to say no."

"And?" he pressed for the details he didn't want to hear

"And I got his number."

"You going to call him?"

"Definitely. He had a really nice smile, and he was funny, and sweet and …"

"Okay, I get the picture." He grumbled

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous Doyle" she teased

"Of what? What's he got that I haven't?"

"Apart from everything else I just said?" she paused to think, before deciding "Intelligence." She shied away from a ray of sunlight that had broken through the blinds, and shifted more towards Doyle. He moved closer to her too, while trying not to make it too obvious.

"I'm smart too, Princess."

"But only when it comes to demons."

"I used to be a teacher, you know."

"Yeah right" she scoffed

"It's true! Ask Angel!"

"I can't imagine you as a teacher. You're just too…"

"Fun?" he suggested hopefully,

"I was going to go with short, but fun's good too."

"I'm not short. I'm just not freakishly tall like Angel."

"So why'd you give it up?" he hesitated. How could he tell her the real reason without revealing his demonic side to her? Finally he sighed,

"It just wasn't for me."

"I could have told you that"

"I wasn't the same person that I am now. This life fighting demons changed me."

"It's changing me too. I just don't know whether or not I like the new me better than the old."

"Well I _really_ like you the way you are at the minute."

"You would have liked the old me better. She wore shorter skirts." At this, Doyle laughed out loud, and Cordelia jumped, raising a hand to her head, "Watch the sudden loud noises." They fell into a comfortable silence, and Cordelia changed position on the cough, lying down on it, so her head rested next to Doyle's thigh

"So what else has he got that I haven't?"

"Money, good looks and did I mention intelligence?"

"Money can't buy you happiness, Princess, and I'm not that bad looking, am I?" she shrugged,

"I'd give you six and a half out of ten."

"Well thanks for that. And haven't we been over the intelligence thing?"

"Yeah, well I'm not convinced."

"You want me to prove that I'm smart?" she nodded and he watched her beautiful eyes scan the office, before resting on the newspaper Angel had brought yesterday.

"Do the crossword in that, by the end of the day, with no help from Angel."

"Can I use the computer?"

"No." She said flatly and following that, she groaned, lifting his jacket from where he'd discarded it on the floor, and using it as a quilt, went to an uneasy sleep on Angel's lumpy couch, feeling the Irishman's eyes on her.

* * *

She woke up three hours later, feeling a lot better than earlier. She pushed Doyle's coat off herself, and back onto its place on the floor, yawning. She looked around for its owner and her boss, but couldn't spot them anywhere in the immediate area. As she wandered to her desk, she found a note stuck to her computer, scrawled in Doyle's barely legible writing,

_Princess,_

_Have a lead on a case. Didn't want to wake you_

_Back by 3_

_Doyle_

She sighed, and crumpled up the note, and threw it into the bin, knowing they would probably be another hour yet. She went absentmindedly to her bag, and started shifting through it, looking for something, anything to end her boredom. She eventually pulled out the scrap of paper the man at the bar had written his number on, and she reached for the phone on her desk. However, as she did so, she caught sight of the crumpled jacket belonging to Doyle that lay on the floor. A wave of strange guilt washed over her, and she wasn't sure why it would or should be there at all. Doyle had a crush on her, and she did occasionally flirt with him, but it was nothing like the way she'd treated the boys back at Sunnydale High. Could it be that she was changing? Or was it more to do with the small, yet growing attraction she felt for him too?

He wasn't rich, or tall, or especially handsome, but he had a special something about him. He wasn't as strong as Angel, yet he fought just as hard, and usually got hurt twice as badly. After the nightly battles, it was Angel who went back to the darkness and Doyle who came back to her apartment to bleed all over her upholstery. She'd known Angel for so much longer, and shared so much more with him, yet she found herself more eager to confide in Doyle. She wanted him to know all about her spoilt brat upbringing, and the disaster that was the decision to give Xander Harris a chance, and more than that, it was he she had tried to run to when an army of cockroaches had invaded her place, before falling back on Angel as a last result.

It didn't make any sense to her. Angel was the better looking of the two, and the stronger, smarter and overall better catch; however she just couldn't ever see her and Angel ever being any more than just friends. They'd been through so much together; that any glimmer of attraction she'd felt towards him in the very beginning had faded into oblivion, while Doyle was creating a larger impression on her.

Almost subconsciously, she gazed at the number she'd fought so hard to get last night, and considered throwing it into the bin to join Doyle's note. Unable to reach an immediate decision, she sat back to wait on her boys' return. However, at that moment, the office phone began to ring, and she answered automatically,

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless"

"Cordelia" the suave tones of the man from the previous night spoke, "I hope you don't mind me calling you, but I had a great time last night"

"How did you get this number?"

"You dropped a business card" he answered. It seemed plausible, but something wasn't quite right, so she was relieved when she heard noises at the door, and Angel's strong voice call out to her,

"Cordelia? You awake?"

"Who's that?" the voice on the other end asked

"My boss." Just then, another voice joined Angel's

"Cordy? Where are you?"

"In here" she shouted from her place in Angel's office, before speaking to the other man again, "Why didn't you ring the number I gave you yesterday?"

"To be honest, I didn't think you gave me the right one"

"We got a case, Princess?" Doyle asked, perching on the edge of Angel's desk, and she shook her head silently. She saw his eyes travel to the phone number in front of her, and he sighed, standing up, looking defeated. A harsh silence fell over the phone line, before the man's voice took on a sharper tone,

"And who's that?"

"Just a guy I work with"

"And he calls you Princess? You sure he's not anything more?" the already annoyed voice sounded angry now, and Cordy began to wonder what sort of stalker she'd given her number to.

"So what if he is?" her own irritation was making her rebellious

"I knew you were stringing me along the second you walked into that bar last night" the voice replied, "You were acting like such a slut it's a miracle I didn't see it before." Cordy had a retort on the tip of her tongue, but then changed her mind at the last second, slamming down the phone. She was a bigger person than that, even if the man she'd seen as so perfect the night before couldn't see it.

Moments later, the phone started to ring again.

"Are you going to get that?" Angel shouted from his office, totally clueless to Cordy's prior call. She looked helplessly at Doyle, who called back,

"I'd rather we didn't, mate. The debt collectors are after me again." Angel nodded, understanding.

"Thank you" she whispered. He didn't reply, just smiled, and Cordy felt herself fall a little bit more for him

* * *

A few hours later, Cordelia glanced at the clock. Half an hour until the end of the day, and Doyle was beginning to look slightly panicked, writing what seemed to be random words into the little squares, before erasing them again. She smiled; secretly pleased he would try so hard to prove his intelligence to her. She rounded his desk, and then laid a hand on his shoulder,

"Ready to give up?"

"I can do it"

"I know, but let's just go early. We don't have a case. Angel won't mind." He looked up at her curiously, but nodded,

"As long as we're in agreement. I _could _do it"

"Maybe, but even if you can't, it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters! I used to teach a class of kids, and now I can't even finish one of these bloody things!" she was surprised by his outburst, "I bet the guy from the bar last night could have done it in half an hour."

"But he turned out to be the date from Hell." She took his hand and firmly pulled him up, "I'd rather have you than him any day."

"Thanks" he said, a blush creeping up the side of his neck.

"Don't mention it. Now come on, I want you to walk me home in case he's waiting outside my door."

"You really worried about this guy? Or do you just want to spend time with me? Because if it's the former, you could sleep at my place, and if it's the latter… well you can sleep at my place anyway."

"Don't push it Doyle." she laughed, taking his arm and leaving the building without a second glance.


End file.
